What if Peter Pettigrew hadn't escaped?
by CrimsonGear
Summary: If thing's were different - what if Peter never escaped in Prisoner of Azkaban? Maybe this, maybe not. Oneshot for the HPFC


Written for the 'if that hadn't happened' challenge on HPFC with the prompt 'if Peter hadn't escaped in Prisoner of Azkaban'. I decided to go and write said event not happening as well as some repercussions :)

Warnings: blood, death, gore, shifting 3rd person POV and Voldemort winning

* * *

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried just as Pettigrew's fingers brushed against Lupin's wand, sending the stick flying into the dark of the bushes. "Don't think for a second I'm letting you get of here," Harry growled at the rat-like man over the scraping and snarling of his godfather and Lupin in their animal forms.

Sirius continued to leap and snap at the werewolf, knowing his body was too weak from its time in Azkaban to properly handle the situation. All he could hope for was pushing Lupin back enough for Harry to get Ron and Pettigrew and for the entire group to leave.

It wasn't until he was batted aside a few minutes later, that Sirius realised Pettigrew and the children had left. Struggling for air and seeing the werewolf turning from him, Sirius returned to human form, needing less air that way. _'The hell is Moony doing? Why on earth is he going back to the Willow? ... Oh shit! Snivellus!'_ Harry and the others had forgotten Snape, who was only now just coming to - with a werewolf mere feet away.

Scrambling to his feet, Sirius ran towards the werewolf. It wasn't that he liked Snape - far from it - but if the man died, someone could quite easily blame him and he didn't want to go back to Azkaban for another crime he didn't commit (though again, his brain noted, one he would very much like to have committed).

"Down, Snape!" he roared in warning, the slimeball having since turned and seen the werewolf and was now doing an excellent impression of a rabbit caught before some headlamps.

Jumping into the air, Sirius transformed once more into a dog and barrelled into the werewolf, sending the two of them flying, with the werewolf's claws narrowly missing Snape's face.

As the two animals scraped on the grass, Severus slowly digested the situation, one: Black was an Animagus. Two: Black had just saved his life. Three: the three of them were alone.

_'Saviour or not I'm getting that bastard back, and Wolfie the accomplice,'_ Severus thought getting up and silently summoning his wand, sure it was here somewhere. Obediently, the stick jumped into Severus' hand and he raised it toward the pair.

"Avada Kedavra," the green jet shot from Severus' wandtip and hit Black's dog form square in the side, seeming to flash across the black fur as it claimed what was left of the Animagi's life force.

Re aiming, this time for Lupin, Severus prepared to cast the killing curse again. However the werewolf wasn't where it had been seconds ago. "What the-? Ack!" Severus coughed, a pain lancing through his chest. Blood was forced up through his oesophagus into his mouth and escaped, dribbling down his chin. The light faded from his dark eyes and he fell forward, the werewolf claw slipping from his back.

There had been something oddly familiar about that dog... Something like... Pack. The word floated around Remus' animalised brain as the black creature suddenly went limp and fell from him. He could sense it wasn't playing dead - the once hammering heartbeat was now a dead echo.

No Pack. No Pack... Kill. Kill Pack Killer. It was all the reasoning Remus needed in that state, a second later behind Snape, who had whirled in fear of the creature being behind him. Remus lashed out before another thought could be made, smashing his claws into Snape's back, piercing the flesh, snapping into the bone and causing fatal damage to Snape's heart and lungs.

He needed something to scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Bite too. Bite. Bite. Scratch. Bite.

Remus wasn't sure of when he went to sleep. Only that when he awoke he was very sticky. And naked. _'Lovely,'_ he thought sarcastically, pushing himself up off of whatever sticky thing he was on.

Flexing his back, the first thing Remus saw was a large, unmoving dog. "Sirius?" Getting to his feet, Remus padded over to the dog and quickly realised two things. It was indeed Sirius, and Sirius appeared dead. "Oh God. Merlin... What? Who? ... Hah..." Remus looked down at himself and froze, eyes wide. He was caked in blood. "M-m-me?" Unable to take what he felt was the truth, Remus turned away. Then found what his darker side had used as a bed that night and promptly threw up.

He didn't want to know who that mass of bone, flesh and fabric used to be. But he had to. If it was Harry - or even any of the students - Remus didn't think he could bare it. Steeling himself and his stomach best he could, Remus gingerly approached the mush, focusing less on the mutilation and more on the people parts; male... maybe tall... dark hair... greasy? Then it dawned. He had killed Snape - there was still blood and skin under his fingernails as proof.

He had to get out of here. Eyes flickering around madly, they locked upon a familiar object: the invisibility cloak, just by the Whomping Willow's trunk.

"I'm sorry, Harry, James. I'm such a coward," Remus muttered to himself, blind panic leading him to snatch up the cloak and cover himself. Remus Lupin fled into the morning light and wasn't heard from again, choosing to live with his own kind in the underground.

* * *

There was nothing Harry could do about Voldemort's return a year later, but in the boy's Fifth and final year, he wished he'd searched harder for Ginny. Wished he'd realised Draco Malfoy and his cronies had stunned her and dumped her in a broom cupboard. He wished he'd taken the Marauder's Map back when Professor Lupin had disappeared and Sirius had been found dead with Snape's remains. Wished he hadn't been so slow and let Dumbledore take the map. Umbridge wouldn't have found them. He'd have found Ginny. He wouldn't be here in the Department of Mysteries with a handful of DA members facing an army of Death Eaters.

"Summon him, Lucius. Summon our Great Dark Lord," breathed Bellatrix in something reminiscent of ecstasy. She held Neville in what should have been a loving embrace, but seemed more like the demented woman was getting ready to strangle the teenager - or crucio him into an even worse state than his parents.

Lucius grinned darkly as he pulled his left robe sleeve up and pressed his wand to the Dark Mark there. The effect was instantaneous. Voldemort probably had performed some grand entrance, or perhaps he'd just apparated with a loud pop! like the other Death Eaters. Either way, Harry had been too preoccupied by the pain in his scar to notice.

"Well... What do we have here?" Voldemort's slit-pupil eyes widened in delight. "Oh I am going to enjoy this. No talking though I'm afraid - what with being in the heart of the Ministry and all that, hehehehe," Voldemort chuckled, the Death Eaters joining him quickly.

With the raising of a hand the Dark Wizard's subjects were silenced and Voldemort raised his wand. "Should work now," he said with a grin. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The flash of green light was blinding and actually caused Voldemort to be blown back. This time was different though, for he was not dead, nor lost his body, though by the fretting of his minions, he had been out for a few minutes.

"Enough!" Voldemort roared, causing those nearest to scuttle back in fright. "What of the boy? Bella, go."

Obedient to a fault, the mad Witch went and could only stare at the boy before managing, "A-alive, My Lord..."

"Impossible," Voldemort growled, getting to his feet and starting forward. "Die you blasted child! AVADA KEDAVRA!" he roared, accompanied by another huge burst of green that only just missed Bellatrix.

"Check him again," demanded Voldemort.

"Dead, My Lord," Bellatrix said, relieved that this time she felt no pulse. "Harry Potter is dead, Master!"

"Indeed. Now - let us make a spectacle of these children and begin my rein."


End file.
